


The 1000th Ghost

by SophieJE619



Category: Haunted Mansion (Ride), The Haunted Mansion (2003)
Genre: Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:07:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26036872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieJE619/pseuds/SophieJE619
Summary: When hinges creek in doorless chambers, and strange and frightening sounds echoe through the halls, whenever candlelights flicker where the air is deathly still, that is the time when ghosts are present, practising their terror with ghoulish delight.Welcome, foolish mortal, to the Haunted Mansion.Actually, we have 999 Happy Haunts here. But there's room for 1000. Any volunteers?Should you decide to join us, final arrangements may be made at the end of the tour.Hurry back, hurry back. Be sure to bring your death certificate, should you decide to join us.Make final arrangements now.We've been dying to have you.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	The 1000th Ghost

Black Tea. The malty flavor wafts up from the black porcelaine cup containing the blood red brew. A single drop drips onto the black saucer from the silver spoon used to stir in another lump of sugar. We look up from the drink to look out of over the grounds, it's difficult not to appreciate the shade that this dilapitated gazebo offers, and comfort that old black cushions provide to creaking bones. It's wonderfully out of the way, over on the far end of the estate, beyond the graveyard, away from the tourists who come to see this place. One can see the servants ushering the gushing guests inside the front door. Let's hope they can appreciate the Mansion's charm as immaculately as possible...

"Hey!" We're torn away from our scrutinizing of the blundering fools by a tactless voice calling out to us. An angry man with dirt on his clothes and bags from sleepless nights under his eyes stormed down the path to the gazebo, taking care not to trample the overgrown foliage that creeped under his boots, withered as the flowers may be. "You!" He calls, pointing a finger. With a head tilt and a blink of confusion, we ask, "What is it? Is something wrong?" "Yes," Is his irrate reply, "You're not supposed to be back here! Where's your group?" We resist the urge to chuff at him, making a show of looking around the otherwise empty space. "Why, we can assure you everyone is present and accounted for, Groundkeeper. Is there anything else we can do for you?"

"You're not supposed to be here!" He yells, the fuss attracting the attention of a group currently being shown the family plot nearby. "Come with me right now, before I'm forced to have you banned from the property!" Hm, perhaps now is a good time to start on the tea before it gets cold. "Such rudeness. Ah well, no matter." We tut, bringing the edge of the cup to our lips. "We won't tell the master about this. It's only to be expected that you would be confused with us." The mansion caretaker furrows his eyebrows, looking around for a minute. "Us… We…? Who are you talking about…" We grin through the cup, as we sip at our drinks. "Don't worry over it, you look like you don't get enough sleep as it is." He gulps, suddenly quite uneasy. "Th-then whats this about the master… this place hasn't been privately owned for decades…" "Why, the Gracey family, of course." We take another sip. "Who else would be so gracious towards their guests? Especially with regards this lovely set up just for us." We chuckle, unable to contain it this time. "We'd offer you a cup, but…" Hm, no not just yet… "You know, you look more like a coffee guy anyway."

"Your'e talking nonsense… The last Gracey to own the mansion passed away over a century ago!" "We know, but then again, isn't this place 'supposedly' haunted?" It's plain to see that the man is thoroughly spooked. "J-just get out!" He yells, and the tour group from before comes closer to see what's wrong. "Mm, no we'll be staying right here, us-thinks. It's about time these pesky tourists clear out. It'd be so weird to have strangers wandering in our new home." "What…" The groundskeeper looks to the tourists for help, but they refuse to get any closer. "Yes, you see, we're here in this gazebo because we want to get comfortable as the mansion's newest resident— "The Mansion isn't for sale." He interrupts. "Let me finish, sir. And we never said we were the new owners. We're the new resident."

We finish off the cup and set it down quite quickly. No sense in breaking such fine china… "And about the clearing out of all the tourists who've been sullying this beautiful estate? You'll see why shortly." We glance to the group who are eying us. "… We really would offer you a cup of tea, but…" "… Why not…" A woman asks. We smile, feeling the burning in our esophagus that has been present for about 15 minutes now, since our last cup of tea. "Well, it takes an acquired taste to enjoy Manchineel leaves in your tea. But arsenic-laced sugar does help with the bitterness." At that moment, the burning of the death apple sap against our innards breaks through to the rest our body, burning everything it touches, and we fall to the ground.

The Final Arrangements have been made.


End file.
